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Fantasia signs a copy of her new book for a fan at the Barnes and Nobel Bookstore in Washington, DC.When an Idol can't read
Fantasia is no longer at a loss for words, as she talks about growing up functionally illiterate
"American Idol" winner Fantasia Barrino celebrates her daughter Zion's fourth birthday at Walt Disney's Magic Kingdom in Florida. In her new book, she speaks about dropping out of school, single motherhood and never learning to read.
Roxanne Hinkle, 19, of Warren has returned to school to pursue reading.
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The story of Fantasia Barrino's spectacular rise from welfare to stardom made good TV when she won the title of "American Idol" in 2004.
However, "You have to remember that life is not a fairy tale," the 21-year-old reminds us in her autobiography, "Life Is Not a Fairy Tale" (Fireside, $21.95).
In the new book, the High Point, N.C., native candidly discusses her philandering father, depressed mother, teen pregnancy, drinking, religion, dropping out of ninth grade and other gritty truths. But no revelation has gotten as much attention as that of her functional illiteracy.
"I'm the American Idol, which seems like a fairy tale, but I can't even read a fairy tale to my four-year-old daughter," the singer says in the book.
Give her a newspaper, she'll stare at the pictures, picking out a few words to decipher articles. Ask for an autograph, she'll draw her lips or write "Be blessed," one of the few phrases she can handle. Give her a car for winning "American Idol," and she'll give it to her mother because she can't read to pass the driver's license test.
The revelations have struck a raw nerve in Detroit, where 47 percent -- nearly one of out of every two adults -- is functionally illiterate, according to a government report, "The State of Literacy in America."
In fact, national studies suggest Detroit's illiteracy rate is the highest among major American cities. According to a 2002 United Nations report, Detroit falls short even when compared to developing Third World nations, such as Cuba, which has 2.7 percent illiteracy rate. In Ecuador, 7 percent of adults can't read, and in El Salvador, 18.9 percent of adults.
While Detroit's literacy problems are far worse, Wayne, Macomb and Oakland counties also share double-digit illiteracy rates.
At Detroit's Center for Literacy and Creativity, Deborah Holt-Foster says it's easy for quiet students, like Fantasia, to "get by" without schools detecting their reading problems.
"They are well-mannered. They come to class, and the teacher overlooks them," says the elementary school's chief administrative officer, who also tutors illiterate adults.
"When Fantasia said she couldn't read or write, like everybody else, I said, 'Oh, my goodness! How could she slip through?' She did what people do. She scammed; she made excuses."
These children learn survival skills they carry into adulthood.
"They learn how to read certain words, but not comprehend them," Holt-Foster says. "If you can't understand what you are reading, that's not reading. They learn how to memorize entire story books. Memorization is a gift all children have, but I don't call that reading."
It's important for educators to detect problems when children are young because the older students get, the better they become at covering up deficiencies, says Sister Janet Traut, a literacy instructor at the Siena Literacy Center in Redford. "They have other people do their reading and take tests for them," she explains. "They give a lot of excuses. They forgot their glasses. They're having trouble with their eyes. The print is too small."
Barbara Agee of Detroit knows such tactics well. She was such a great pretender she graduated from high school in 1974 unable to read.
While she was an attentive student, she clearly remembers falling behind in the fifth or sixth grade. She stopped participating in class; teachers stopped calling on her. That's when her gimmicks began.
"I faked a lot of things," recalls the 48-year-old. "If somebody would say, 'Read this.' I would pretend to read it and say, 'Oh, that's nice.' "
Though she got a driver's license, a chauffeur's license and finished truck-driving school without being able to read, Agee says being illiterate is "horrible." Her biggest regret is being unable to help her now-grown sons or her granddaughters with homework.
"It depressed me," says Agee, who's been tutored at Dominican Literacy Center in Detroit. "I wanted to cry. I have a sister-in-law, and one of her kids was having trouble reading. I said, 'Whatever you do, get her help. It's hard to tell people you can't read, and it's embarrassing.' I didn't have anyone do that for me."
A child also heightened Fantasia's shame about being illiterate.
"Most people in my family couldn't read very well. So not reading was normal for us," she says in "Not a Fairy Tale." "It only struck me that I needed to read when Zion (her daughter) brought over one of her books for me to read to her. I cried because I couldn't read the large words on the colorful pages of the child's book. I opened the page and recognized most of the words but didn't know how to pronounce them."
Fantasia's willingness to share such painful memories is inspiring, says Roxanne Hinkle of Warren, who's beginning to read on a first-grade level. The 19-year-old says it has reinforced some lessons learned during her struggles to read: "You don't give up. You find a way. You don't let people bring you down. You don't listen to what they have to say."
And don't allow anything to persuade you to drop out of school, Fantasia warns. "This is one mistake that no one should ever make. Ever. ... In those days, I was being cool by not going to school. I didn't realize that the coolest part of my life should have been spending my days (in school). The coolest part of my nights should have been struggling with math homework and writing papers. ...I was at home lookin' stupid -- watchin' TV, not being able to read, not being able to count."
Such blunt honesty is needed, says Mary Crown, 55, of Detroit. Also a high school dropout, Crown preferred having sex, getting high and skipping class to getting an education. She says if anyone famous had been brave enough to tell the world he or she couldn't read or write, it could have changed her life.
"If I was 25, it would have made a whole lot of difference," Crown says. "It would have made me eager to go back to school if I heard her say that. It would have made me step out to better myself."
Fantasia may have won the "American Idol" competition last year, but as Crown recently watched her openly discussing her literacy problems on ABC's "20/20," the singer became a genuine American idol, a true inspiration for her.
"She was dressed up and looking good. She had her head up, not down," Crown says. "It makes me want to study more and let young people -- and even older people -- know that they need to try to learn to read. It shows life does not stop."
Being a functioning illiterate never stopped Crown, but it has slowed her down.
She recalls her heartache when she couldn't read bedtime stories to the niece she helped rear. And there's the time she co-signed for a car loan, unable to read the documents she signed. Crown understood the implications only when the car was repossessed and her credit score took a dive.
Today, however, after months of studying at Detroit's Adult Dominican Literacy Center, Crown can read her Bible better and teaches Sunday school classes. She continues working with a tutor in hopes of reaching other milestones.
"I can't read that well, but I want to go to college and be a counselor," Crown says. "That's what I'm striving for. I want the world to know now I'm this, but I can be that. I don't feel shame no more."
To that, Fantasia probably would say "Amen." She's attending book-signings and discussing illiteracy around the country. In her book, she says she's reading and writing as much as possible to hone those skills, and she plans to get her GED and eventually a driver's license.
"Although my readin' thing makes a good story, the real story is how I have managed to fool the world into thinking that I could read," she says in her book. "The real story is how Hollywood and show business wouldn't want the world to know that illiteracy is a real thing that affects a lot of young people like me. It is one of those ugly things that no one wants to talk about, yet keeping a secret just makes a new generation of illiterates."
You can reach Kimberly Hayes Taylor at (313) 222-2058 or ktaylor@detnews.com.
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